


Christmas At Miles's

by Sarren



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 14:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarren/pseuds/Sarren
Summary: Miles doesn't want Joe to be alone at Christmas.





	Christmas At Miles's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [telm_393](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telm_393/gifts).



> Thank you to my two awesome betas rosefox and MildredMost.
> 
> Yuletide Treat.

No new murders in their patch in the last fortnight—not ones that the Boss has taken an interest in, anyway. So Christmas is a go.

Kent and Mansell have both taken leave. There’s some big Kent family holiday meet up in Yorkshire. Miles knows for a fact that Kent tried to get out of it by claiming he needed to work over the Christmas break, but Mansell told Erica that the Boss had authorised the time off and that was the end of that. Mansell’s a good officer but he can be a bit of a shit—he’s got a malicious streak that Kent seems to get the brunt of.

Meg had Christmas booked months ago. Non-negotiable. She’s taking her daughter to stay with the grandparents in Cornwall. So it’s just the Boss and him stuck in the office on Christmas Eve (and Buchan in his basement, of course).

Joe always works through Christmas. Before this year, Miles never questioned it, assumed it was just Joe being dedicated and having no social life to speak of. But after Joe had confided in Miles about his father’s suicide, Miles had looked up the case. The bastard had only gone and done it on Christmas, or close enough to make no difference. 

Miles would lay odds that Joe hasn’t celebrated Christmas since.

 

“You got plans for tonight?” Miles asks nonchalantly, making himself at home in the chair in front of Chandler’s desk.

“Miles, come in,” Joe says drily, raising an eyebrow.

“What about tomorrow? Catching up with family?” He must have some, right? Joe had said his mum had mental health issues but not that she was dead, so presumably…

“As it happens, no.”

Miles wants to ask, but, contrary to what some people think, he does have some tact. Occasionally.

Joe studies him for a moment, then puts down his pen precisely in its usual spot and closes the file he’s been working on. He positions it to his satisfaction, his fingertips on either side, before he looks back up at Miles. “My mother’s staying with her sister in Carlisle this year. I’ll go up and spend New Year with them.”

Joe’s expression is bland is but his eyes are slightly narrowed, wary, as if he suspects Miles is up to something. He’s right, of course. Not for nothing they’ve worked together so well all these years. 

“Right, you’re coming home with me, then,” Miles announces.

“That’s not necessary, but thank you.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Joe picks up his pen and turns it over between his fingers. “Miles, I’m fine, I assure you.”

“No one should be alone on Christmas, and that’s final.”

Joe’s face freezes. Oh, great, he probably assumes Miles is asking him out of pity. Which he is, kind of, but he would have invited him anyway if he’d known he didn’t have plans. Joe has to know that too.

Joe carefully puts the pen down again and Miles just knows he’s about to refuse again.

He pulls out the big guns. “Look, I’ve already run it by Judy, she’d love to have you—you know she would. I even promise not to let the baby chuck up on you again.”

Joe’s eyes soften. “Promises, promises.”

 

Joe’s always welcome in their home. The boys like him well enough and Judy thinks he’s a good role model. Judy reckons he needs looking after, thinks he should find a nice girl and settle down. Miles has tried to explain, but it’s just made her more determined.

The boys are more interested in girls and computer games this year than they are in tearing the place up with noisy toys and gleeful shrieks, which makes Christmas more peaceful than they’ve had in years, the occasional squawk from baby Sarah notwithstanding.

Joe appreciates the difference. Miles watches him visibly relax once he’s got a beer down him. Judy’s doing some final prep for Christmas lunch tomorrow, so Miles sends the boys out for fish and chips and curry sauce (mostly because Joe’s face will be priceless). Judy used to do fish pie on Christmas Eve, but Miles lost his taste for it after the Ripper case.

The boys will be gone awhile, chippy’s bound to be busy tonight, and Miles and Joe are only underfoot in the kitchen, so they take their beers down to the fish pond.

It’s not too cold out and there’s even a decent number of stars visible tonight. They sit in comfortable silence for a while, contemplating the fish. Joe’s picking at the label of his empty bottle, but his face is peaceful in a way it rarely is. Miles is glad of it.

Judy calls them in when the boys get back. In deference to their visitor, Judy’s neatly served them portions onto plates, and they sit up at the table. Miles grabs them each another beer before they sit down. Joe’s eyebrows draw together; he drove here, he’s wondering what Miles is thinking of.

“Go on, live a little,” Miles urges him. “No need to drive home. The spare room’s made up ready.”

Joe looks at Miles and then at Judy. “I couldn’t possibly impose.”

Judy reaches out and pats Joe’s hand. “Oh, honey, you’re not imposing. We love having you here.”

Joe looks touched. “Thank you, Judy, but Christmas is for family.”

“That’s all well and good for those who have family and for those whose family get on,” Miles points out, pouring curry sauce liberally over his chips. Joe’s eyes fall to his plate, and his tiny nose-wrinkle of distaste before his face smooths out is everything Miles hoped for. “I know lots of families who fight like cat and dogs and have bloody miserable Christmases,” he argues. “They’d be better off calling it quits and spending Christmas with people they actually care about.”

“Good point, but Christmas morning, opening presents with the children—”

“Will still happen. You’re welcome to join us, or have a lie in if you prefer.”

Judy takes Joe’s hand. He looks at her, his eyes wide. “Joe, we’d love you to stay. Christmas _is_ a time for family, and we’d like it if you’d consider _us_ family. But only if you’d feel comfortable. Don’t let Ray nag you into anything.”

Joe looks at Miles.

“What she said.”

Joe blinks rapidly and glances down at his untouched food. 

July glances at Miles worriedly, and he smiles reassuringly at her. Joe just needs a moment. Around the table the boys are tucking into their food, oblivious to the atmosphere. Sarah starts banging her spoon against her tray table, apple custard bits escaping onto the table and the floor. Judy turns her attention to making sure some food actually reaches the baby’s mouth.

Joe nods once, as if to himself. “I’d love to stay, thank you both.” He still looks a bit overwhelmed. 

“Great. Now, do you want this beer or not?” Miles asks, holding it out. “We’ve got sparkling water or pop, and I think we still have some Becks Blue some tosser left here once if you prefer.”

Joe takes the beer. “This is fine, thank you, Ray.”

“You’re welcome. Now eat up, food’s getting cold.” 

Joe picks up his knife and fork but he doesn’t immediately start eating. Miles watches Joe look around the table. Judy’s making funny faces at Sarah. Sarah’s giggling. The boys are scoffing the last of their chips and will be asking to be excused any minute so they can get back to the computer game they were playing. 

It’s bog-standard fish and chips for all it’s on a china plate. Not the fancy fare Joe would no doubt be consuming were he anywhere else. Yet the expression on Joe’s face is one of wonder, and Miles finds he has to swallow a lump in his throat at the thought that this might be the first happy family Christmas he’s ever had.

“Merry Christmas, Joe,” he says quietly.

Joe’s eyes turn to him, still full of that wonder. “Thank you, Ray,” he says, and he’s smiling as he tucks into his fish and chips.


End file.
